In west Philadelphia, born and raised, on the playground is where I spent most of my days chilling out max and relaxing all cool and all shooting some B-ball outside of the school. When a couple of guys who were up to no good started making trouble in my neighborhood, I got in one little fight and my mom got scared and said, "You're moving with your auntie and uncle in Bel-Air." I whisled for a cab, and when it came near, the liscense plate said "fresh" and it had a dice in the mirror. If anything, I could say that this cab was rare, but I thought, "Nah, forget it. Yo, home to Bel-Air!" I pulled up to a house at about seven or eight, and I yelled to the cabbie, "Yo holmes, smell you later." I looked at my kingdom; I was finally there to sit on my throne as the prince of Bel-Air.
